


A Well Placed 'Please'

by JSinister32



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Drabbles, Established Relationship, Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Hannibal Lecter - Freeform, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Smut, Will Graham - Freeform, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, prompts, short fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:41:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27586928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JSinister32/pseuds/JSinister32
Summary: A short collection of drabbles on the word please.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 32
Kudos: 131





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This short little collection is dedicated to the wonderful Candles. Your most recent comment gave me the idea, and I thought it might help alleviate a little of your stress. I hope you enjoy, darling. 🤍

_Speech has power._   
_Words do not fade._   
_What starts out as a sound_   
_Will end in a deed._   
_-Abraham Joshua Herschel_

* * *

**The Time When Hannibal Tried to Leave After a Fight**

“If that is how you truly feel after… after everything we have been through, then fine. I have nothing left to say.” Hannibal and Will stood feet apart, chests heaving as they stared at one another in shocked silence. The distance between them could have been miles for all the good it did them. 

_This is not how its meant to be._

It started with something small, insignificant even. An ill placed word here, a misunderstanding there, moments they chose to let settle without any true resolution, unaware they’d eventually come to a head. This morning, it was the salt. Will had asked, more than once, for Hannibal to pass it to him, but the doctor had been absorbed in other matters and, with his efforts directed elsewhere, he ignored the request completely. Will had tried to let it go. He knew what it was like to get sidetracked, especially since the fall from the cliffs. After the third request, though... it had become too much. The phone the doctor had been studying as if it were the last lifeline anchoring him to the present had been knocked from his hands in an angry outburst, bouncing out of sight beneath the table. Will had stared, appalled, at his hands, as if he couldn't believe what they had just done. When Hannibal had managed to retrieve it, the screen had been cracked straight down the center, the angry line radiating out as if mimicking their impending fury. 

When their eyes finally met over the counter, Will knew it was too late to apologize. 

Then, the real fight had begun. Once they got started… their angry words spun out of control. Accusations were hurled across the space separating them, and all the words that Will had kept safely locked away had come tumbling out, cascading from his lips in an avalanche that he was helpless to end. Now, his breath coming out in short, sharp gasps, he stood in their wake, the realization of what he had said crashing into him in stark, aching clarity.

The worst part was he hadn’t meant half of what he'd said, not really. Anger and exhaustion had managed to get the better of him, especially in the wake of whatever Hannibal had been studying for the past few weeks. He didn't want it to be more important than him; the man who had both ended and saved the doctor's life. The silence echoed around them, the lack of sound almost as sharp as the words Will had hurled at his lover. Staring across the room at the stark, blank look on Hannibal's face, all he wished to do was take it back, take Hannibal in his arms and beg for forgiveness.

He witnessed the moment, the crystalline instant, when the veneer of Hannibal’s armor cracked, a sliver of the hurt he was trying to hold within gleaming through. The doctor’s stoicism only made the glimpses of his pain that much more painful for Will to see. _No. No, no. Please, this... this isn't what I meant it to be. I love you._ Shaking like a leaf, Will reached out, brushing back sweat soaked strands of hair from the beautiful, distrusting eyes holding his own gaze. Whatever had caused their rift... it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. All he had, all he ever needed in his life was the man before him. Hannibal backed away, bumping into the counter as he moved out of Will’s reach.

It really fucking hurt.

“I’m going to pack a bag,” the doctor said, voice thick with tears. “I shall take up residence in a hotel for a few days. We can figure out what to do from-”

“No.” Hannibal’s words died in his throat, a thread of hope lancing its way painfully through his chest. _No. I have to stay strong. We have to learn to do better, and distance will force it._

“Will-”

“No, Hannibal. Please. Please don’t leave.” The words came out breathy, so filled with emotion that Hannibal's breath caught in his throat. Will moved closer, caging Hannibal against the counter. _No. We can't do this. I won't let you run._

“We belong to eachother,” he spat. “Your words, not mine. And you want to leave? No. Just… please.” The last word broke in his throat as he reached the spot where Hannibal stood, frozen in place by the outburst. Will breathed in the doctor’s scent, let it wash through his senses as he bracketed the doctor’s hips, gripping the counter to hold him in place.

Their lips crashed together painfully, teeth scraping painfully against lips as Will pinned Hannibal against the counter, their rage and hate and need riding them like a burst of lightning, sparking between them as it built. They let it build, climb and peak as they kissed until their jaws ached. They finally broke apart with a gasp, clinging onto one another as if they were drowning. Everything they had, everything they were culminated into that second of perfect, shining clarity. There was no escaping one another. They belonged to eachother and would forever. 

The bedroom was too far. The dining room table would have to do. Clothes fell around them as Hannibal backed Will into the room. It took moments before they fell upon one another like ravenous wolves. Hannibal pinned Will down against the hard wood of the table, plates and silverware raining onto the floor in musical pieces. Nothing had ever sounded better. A bottle of cooking oil did the trick, trickling onto the floor in thick, wet drops as it cascaded between Hannibal’s fingers. He quested between Will’s parted thighs, searching for that tight knot of muscle, massaging gently, silently willing his lover to relax. Will keened against him, his chest heaving as Hannibal breached his body with first one, then two, and finally three fingers, stretching his opening without mercy. They needed it, needed to be inside one another more than they needed to breathe. Within minutes, Will lifted his hips in offering, the silent plea for more burning through Hannibal's usual patience. Trembling, Hannibal lined himself up against the loosened opening and pushed in one long, slow glide. He worked his way into Will’s body, his cock hard as iron and so sensitive, the tight, warm squeeze of muscle inside Will very nearly causing him to pass out from the blissful sensation. _Yes. Give to me, darling. Let me inside you._

The pace they set, rocking into eachother against their dining table at half past ten in the morning, was relentless. Will tried in vain to grasp any purchase available as Hannibal held his hips and pushed into him, fucked him, staking claim in ways he hadn’t done since their early days together. Eventually, Will gave up and pressed his cheek to the wood, letting Hannibal take what he needed. God, yes. Fucking have me.

Their orgasms were seconds apart, and so loud, Will was shocked the cops didn’t show up. Hannibal howled a stream of profanity as he emptied himself into the ex profiler’s body, his legs trembling as he tried to remember how to breathe.

It took them ten minutes to be able to move, and another half hour in the shower to make it to bed, so liquidly relaxed, they practically had to pour themselves between the sheets.

The dishes remained on the floor until the following morning, the only evidence to how Hannibal and Will learned to settle their arguments. It only got better from there.

* * *

**The First Time Will Spent the Night**

The sex had been incredible, but then again, it always was between them. Will sat in the picture window, dressed only in one of Hannibal's dressing gowns, lamenting the fact that he quit smoking some time before. It would be the perfect accompaniment to what had just transpired in the large, four poster bed that graced the middle of Hannibal's bedroom. He couldn’t remember a time they hadn’t been able to call or text, find comfort in those few vulnerable hours with one another. Hannibal’s sharper edges dulled and he became almost human when they were together, a man of pleasure and sensation, so good at bringing those desperately needed moments of release that Will found himself thinking about each second they spent wrapped in eachother days later. Within weeks, it had become the most addictive thing in the profiler’s life.

The beginning of what they were had happened suddenly and completely unprompted. The kiss they shared that first night in Hannibal’s office, had occurred out of desperation, Will pinned back against the rolling ladder and very close to panic over his own inability to keep a grasp on reality. He hadn’t been willing to listen to what the doctor had to say, unwilling to believe it could be something going wrong in his own mind. When their lips met, Hannibal had been trying to get him to focus on what he was currently experiencing. Will had never experienced a first kiss that made him feel cherished, not until that moment. He would remember it for the rest of his days. 

It had centered him, grounded him back in reality, the feeling of safety only increasing as the kiss deepened, evolved into something they both needed. The ladder against his back had felt so good; safe and solid, anchoring him in the present. Hannibal had tried to pull away, to continue the conversation from where they left off. He had tried to apologize. It had fallen flat in the wake of Will’s need, the clawing feeling that ripped up through his body, the desire that poured from his as he gripped the doctor’s tie, brought their bodies back into contact. 

It was the last time Hannibal had ever tried to pull away from him. The rest of the evening had been spent coaxing sounds Will didn't even know he could make from his throat.

They had left the following morning with promises that nothing had changed, that they could still talk to one another about anything. True to his word, Will kept his appointments, opening up week after week about the horrors in his mind, except now, their sessions ended with dinner invitations and conversations that had nothing to do with the most recent case on the tables of the FBI. They talked about their families. Will’s need to collect strays. Hannibal’s fondness for classic literature and argyle.

They often shared dessert over the table, one portion and one spoon, and more often ended up in bed together for a few hours of pure bliss. Their physical relationship was more deeply satisfying than anything Will had ever experienced, yet had someone told him a year previously that he’d end up pinned beneath his psychiatrist, sobbing the man’s name as Hannibal drove into him, he would have laughed them from the room. He’d never been with a man before then. Now, he didn’t know what he’d do if they stopped. The pleasant ache between his thighs was part of what got him through his weeks, the awful days of bodies and psychopaths.

Will came out of his reverie with a start. In all the time they spent together, there was always the clear line that they didn't spend the night together, but tonight, he didn’t want to leave. It was the unspoken agreement between them, though, and far be it from him to break tradition. Still, sitting in the window with Hannibal's scent wrapped around him as securely as the dressing gown, it was hard for him to convince himself that their intimacy was at an end for the time being. He wanted to curl up against Hannibal’s chest and sleep. 

“Penny for your thoughts,” said a rough voice at his shoulder. Will smiled and leaned into the man who slid behind him on the bench, wrapping warm arms around his waist.

“I just never thought I’d be here, doing… whatever this is,” he said. “Now, I don’t know how I’d function without it.” He turned his head, planting a soft kiss on Hannibal’s mouth. 

“Understandable,” the doctor replied. “I’ve come to crave your company as well." He loosened the shoulder of the dressing gown to run his lips along the exposed skin of Will's neck. "I’d very much like what we have to continue. I hope you feel the same.” Will nodded, leaning further into Hannibal's arms. They took a moment to just breathe together, settling into the comfortable quiet surrounding them. It was harder than Will could have imagined to pull away, especially when Hannibal’s arms tightened around him.

“I should probably get out of your hair,” the profiler said, his eyes downcast. “I know you have an early start tomorrow.” Hannibal said nothing, pulling the other man closer.

“As an alternative, you could come back to bed,” the doctor replied after a moment. Will risked a glance up, and found warm maroon eyes gazing back at him. Hannibal smiled, watching Will’s pupils swell in the low light. “There is a storm coming and my appointment tomorrow morning was forced to cancel. We could make use of the time I suddenly have.” He nuzzled against the profiler’s throat, relishing the soft sound Will breathed into the air. Will’s heart did a little flip in his chest, hardly daring to believe he had heard correctly.

“Are you asking me…” Hannibal nodded.

“To stay for the evening. Sleep with me, in my bed. I couldn’t bear to send you out in this weather.” Will hesitated, a fragile look gracing his features. “Please,” Hannibal whispered against his cheek. 

The only response Hannibal received was the stroking of their lips as Will untied his robe.

* * *

**The Time Hannibal Had a Migraine**

He didn’t know why he continued to work through the pain, but once it began Hannibal knew the only way it would stop is if he could beat the worst of it home. He could lock himself away in the darkness until the incredible, searing ache subsided into something manageable. It had been weeks since the last one; enough time that Hannibal had foolishly thought that he had finally gotten a handle on his migraines. In a blinding, aching burst of light through his left eye, he understood in an instant what a fool he had been.

_Home. I need to get home._

The knock that sounded on his office door boomed through his head, causing the pain to radiate outward in bright, flashing pulses in time with the sounds. He couldn’t see, didn’t know how to cope.

“Come- come in,” he managed to call, his voice shaking. His own words vibrated through his skull, pulsing in heavy thuds, making the world around him spin. He heard the door open with a click, footsteps come closer. _Maybe I can make whoever it is go away_ , he thought miserably. _Make it home, crawl to bed-_

“Hello, Doctor- Jesus, Hannibal are you okay?” The voice was soothing, calm and reassuring as balm on his aching mind. Hannibal tried to breathe. He had to explain. Cool hands descended on the back of his neck, massaging the tight muscles as gently as they could.

“Migraine?” the voice asked gently. Hannibal didn’t want to nod. Nodding hurt too much.

“Y-yes,” he whispered, misery etched into the tiny word. The hand went away, the footsteps moving through the room as the doctor tried to focus. He knew the voice, wanted it to soothe him. He didn’t want it to leave. He heard the door click and sighed, trying to right himself in his misery.

“You look awful,” said the voice again. “What can I do to help you?” Hannibal swallowed hard. He hadn’t left after all, but stayed. Wanted to help. He wanted to weep in relief, but that would only make it worse.

“Medication,” he gasped. “At home. Please- c-can you-” The hand returned, massaging along his aching spine, the pressure just enough to alleviate without making it worse. _How does he know?_

“Let’s get you home, then," Will said gently. "Can you walk if I drape your arm over me? You can keep your eyes closed.” 

“Yes. I-I should be able to.” They stood carefully, pausing to ensure Hannibal had his footing before making their way through the office. Will locked the door behind them, and they set off into the evening together. It took some time to make it through the parking lot, but he wasn't in any hurry. The car door clicked open with a hush, and he settled the doctor into the passenger seat of his car, closing the door as he made his way to the driver's side. Will started the car, immediately turning off the music he had been blaring on his way there. He kept watch on the huddled figure next to him as he drove slowly to Hannibal’s home. 

The trip inside was slow and painful, but with Hannibal’s halting instructions, they navigated him inside and into the bath. Will added drops of mint to the steaming water and excused himself for a moment, only to return with a cold pitcher of water, a glass, and Hannibal’s medication. He helped the doctor undress and sink into the tub before filling a glass and handing it to him. Medication came next; Hannibal swallowed it down without a thought. Will kept watch, his eyes remaining on Hannibal's face.

“Finish the water, then close your eyes,” he murmured. Hannibal didn’t argue, just swallowed down the remaining water in his glass, handing it back to the profiler. He closed his eyes and willed the world to stop spinning. Strong fingers appeared as if materializing from thin air, each coated in a drop of mint oil. They worked their way along his forehead, moving upward into his hair as he rested in the water. A washcloth emerged, water sliding over his head, breaking up the pain as the medication started to dissolve the worst of it. The massage continued, alternating with warm, sluicing water.

Between the gentle massage and the medication, the world slowly ceased its spinning. When Hannibal carefully opened his eyes, he was greeted with the most beautiful sight imaginable. Will smiled and wrung out the washcloth, folding it to place across the back of Hannibal’s neck.

“Better?” 

“Yes,” he replied, the words still small and painful.

“Good. Then let’s get you into bed. I'll make you something to eat when you wake.” Hannibal nodded and let the profiler help him from the bath, shivered as he dried him gently. They made their way through the darkened room, Hannibal gripping the arm that held him upright until he could slide between the blessedly cool sheets. He turned his head, wanting to say something, anything, to express his gratitude.

“Will-”

“Shhh, love. Rest for me.” Cool lips brushed against his temple. Shivering, weak, Hannibal let his eyes flutter closed. The hands returned, tucking the sheets around him. The darkness overtook him, letting the rest of the pain ebb away as he slept.

In the chair beside him, Will kept watch as Hannibal slumbered.

* * *

**The Time When Hannibal Taught Will to Waltz**

“You’re thinking about it too hard, darling. Don’t concentrate on the steps. Watch my eyes, and feel the music. I will guide you.” Will sighed, frustrated.

“I’m not going to get it, Hannibal. I haven’t gotten it in the last three hours that you’ve tried to show me, I’m not going to get it in the next three hours. Can’t we just call it quits?” Hannibal watched his husband’s features set into the stubborn lines he only got when he was done with whatever activity they were currently working on. Pushing him further would only result in a fight.

“If you wish,” he said, resigned. “We can try again after a break.” Will flopped onto the couch, shaking his head.

“It doesn’t matter how long I wait. I’m not going to get it. The waltz just isn’t for me.” Hannibal took a seat on the couch and pulled Will into his arms, kissing the top of his head. 

“I’d very much like to dance with you at the function we are attending, darling,” he murmured. Will shivered and closed his eyes, absorbing the sound of Hannibal’s voice as it eased into his senses. “But I understand if you need to rest. We can try again in a few hours.” Will shook his head.

“I don’t understand the steps, and the harder I try, the more confused I get." Hannibal said nothing, deep in thought. His hand came up to stroke through Will’s curls, the soft riot springing up in all directions as he massaged the other man’s scalp. Shivering, Will sank into the touch, melting against Hannibal’s side.

“I’m sorry you married a man that can’t dance,” he muttered against Hannibal's neck. “I wish I could learn, but my feet go in all directions and I just feel dumb.” Hannibal took the profiler’s face in his hands, forcing him to meet his own warm maroon eyes, gazing at him with so much love, it stole Will’s breath.

“Please,” Hannibal whispered as their lips stroked, “Do not ever call my husband anything unkind. I happen to think a great deal of him, especially when he goes out of his way to be too hard on himself.” Will moaned, the sound swallowed in the searing kiss Hannibal placed upon his lips. For long minutes they sat on the couch, wrapped up in eachother as the gentle connection of their mouths ebbed and flowed. Breathless, Hannibal rested his forehead against his husband’s, their breath mingling in the small space between them.

“Will you try one more thing for me?” he asked. “I have an idea.” Reluctantly, Will nodded. Hannibal grinned and kissed him fully on the mouth before standing. “Wait here.” Will nodded, letting his head fall to the back of the couch. Hannibal strode from the room, returning with his phone and their portable speakers in hand.

“I’ve been going about this all wrong,” Hannibal said, his eyes sparkling. “Perhaps you need something more modern to listen to. It will be easier for you to feel the music instead of worrying about your feet.” Will frowned but stood to join the doctor where he stood, searching through his playlist for a proper song. Before he could read the song he had chosen, the familiar opening notes to his favorite Alicia Keys song burst through the speakers. Hannibal set the phone down and extended his hand.

“May I have this dance, darling?” Will smiled and took his husband’s hands, letting him pull him into the familiar embrace. He closed his eyes, letting the music swell around them as they moved. 

“You’re doing it,” Hannibal whispered against his temple. “That’s perfect, Will. Just keep moving with me.” Without a pause, they danced around the room, letting the music carry them. When the song ended, Hannibal captured Will’s lips with his own as they continued to sway, letting their love create their rhythm.

“Marry me,” Hannibal panted as they spun through the room. Will laughed.

“I already did, love,” he replied. Hannibal smiled, dipping him low.

“Inconsequential. Marry me again.”


	2. Simple Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For my lovely Candles. I'm sorry you're stressed, darling. I hope these little ficlets help 🤍

**The Time When Will Got Analyzed**

The man seated before him didn’t look like anything special. Perhaps a bit fidgety if Hannibal were really to put a term to the way he slumped into his chair, startlingly blue eyes darting around the room in a frenzy. The wall, the clock, the desk, to his feet. A brief pause, and the circuit began again. That, coupled with the fact that the stranger hadn’t said a word since taking a seat, were enough to make Hannibal want to scream. Shake him, perhaps. Clasp onto his shoulders, and force the gaze up to his own. Find what was lurking beneath the stunning color. _Not quite cerulean or cobalt,_ he thought _. A shade between the two._

“May I make you a cup of tea, Mr. Graham?” he asked in an attempt at politeness. “I have several different kinds-

“I’m fine, thank you,” came the curt reply. The circuit began again, only with the barest glance in the doctor’s direction before it took on its pattern. Hannibal ground his teeth and picked up a pen.

“Do you know why you’ve been asked to come to see me?” he asked, his voice bland. The blue eyes met his own for a moment, and as they locked, Hannibal’s heart thudded a single, resounding note in his chest before falling silent. It was fine. If the man before him kept gazing at him, his heart didn’t need to beat. A look of pure, utter loss and despair filled the profiler’s eyes; behind it sat such a look of defiance, Hannibal immediately wanted to bring down the walls holding the emotions running through the man before him in check. A deep, primal part of him wanted to know what would happen if the anger, the rage and stubbornness was set loose upon the world.

Still, Will didn’t respond to the inquiry, instead raking a hand through the touchably wild disarray of his hair. Hannibal sighed inwardly, pushing away the thoughts that sprang to mind of gripping those curls, guiding the downturned mouth to his own in a passionate kiss. Pressing the body back to the chair in which Will sat, pinning him in place while he deepened the brush of their lips. 

_How best to approach such a subject, when the man will give you nothing and I would like nothing more than to make him moan for me?_ Hannibal took a deep breath, and tried to start again.

“Jack Crawford-”

“I know what Jack wants you to do,” Will said, his voice softly laced with contempt. “He wants you to poke around in my skull, see what kinds of things you can bring to the surface.” The profiler shifted in his chair, facing Hannibal fully at last. He leaned back in his seat, holding Hannibal’s eyes angrily.

“I don’t appreciate being told I need to be analyzed, Doctor Lecter. You won’t like what you find.” Hannibal stared at the soft, pink mouth that spoke to him, willing himself under some semblance of professionalism and control. _He is not here to be seduced. He is here for you to help him._

“Perhaps,” he said, his voice hoarse, “you needn’t look at it as I’m attempting to analyze you.” Reaching across the table, he poured himself a glass of water, taking a long sip from the cup before continuing. “If you’d help me get to know you-” Will stood from his chair so abruptly, Hannibal was surprised the thing didn’t slide across the floor with the force. The slight tremble to the man before him’s body made him pause, rethink his approach once more.

“What is it about me that frightens you so, Will?” he asked, his voice soothing, as if coaxing a wild animal closer. Will paced a circle in front of the chair, his hands going to his hair.

“I’m not frightened,” he spat. “I know all the tricks you’ll try to use. I know this game, probably better than you.” A wild voice escaped his lips, turning almost to a sob. He covered his face in his hands, trembling. “You can’t help me. Nobody can.” The words sounded… lost. Hannibal’s heart squeezed hard in his chest, pulling at emotions he thought had long fled him. _What is it about you that makes me want to protect you from whatever you_ _’re so desperately attempting to escape?_

Hannibal stood and approached the other man slowly. He could smell the fear soaked sweat on his skin, but beneath it was a sweet, soft, warm smell, something that pushed at his memory, pulling from him a single word that he hadn’t wanted to speak in more years than he could count. _Home. This man smells of home._ Without a thought, Hannibal placed a hand on Will’s shoulder, and when he didn’t resist, pulled him to him in a quiet embrace. Will didn’t react at first, but as Hannibal held him, the trembling slowly eased. The doctor took a deep breath, pulling the clean, sweet scent he had long forgotten deep into his lungs.

“Will,” he whispered, “I do not care why you have been sent to me. I do not care what Jack wants me to do with you. I want to help you carry whatever burden it is that you brought to my door when you arrived.” Pulling back, he wrapped a hand around the back of the profiler’s neck, wanting for all the world to kiss the man before him, a man that, until an hour before, he didn’t know existed. _What will become of me if I help him? How can I possibly resist?_ Will’s eyes widened, lost.

“Let me help you,” Hannibal whispered. “Please.” They stared at one another for a long moment before Will nodded slowly. Hannibal released him, feeling as if he had lost a limb when he did so. Shaken, he made his way back to his chair, gesturing for Will to do the same. The profiler took his seat, looking as if he had been struck.

“Now,” Hannibal started. “Please. Unburden yourself to me. I am here to listen.” Will closed his eyes, and after a moment, began to speak.

* * *

**The Time When Will Tried to Sneak Out After Sex**

Will woke with a start, momentarily disoriented. The bed in which he slept was large, soft, and far more comfortable than his own. His mind coaxed him to lay back down, take comfort in the warm sheets surrounding him and let sleep pull him back into its embrace. He closed his eyes, listening to the voice in his head like a siren’s call. Before he could fall asleep once again, his eyes sprang open once more. _Bed. This bed. It_ _’s not mine. Oh God-_ Sure enough, sleeping soundly next to him, back facing him in a tantalizingly delightful play of muscle, was Hannibal Lecter, his sometimes friend and psychiatrist. Will watched, fascinated, as the doctor’s breath rose and fell, causing the shoulders to expand enticingly. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around that back and the warmth it would offer, but he had never stayed the night when one of their… incidents had occurred. 

The first had caught him by surprise, a small kiss in the excitement for closing a case turning into a lengthy session of heavy petting on Hannibal’s couch in his office. The doctor had surprised him by offering to continue their encounter within his home, and Will had agreed, his heart beating so fast, he was afraid he would pass out. Hannibal had taken pity on him and when they arrived, took him straight to the bedroom without a lengthy conversation. Will had spent the next hour in pure bliss as they kissed and slowly divested one another of their clothing, falling to the bed in a heated pile of limbs. Their hands had begun the exploration they both seemed to so desperately want, giving way to roaming mouths. By the time Hannibal had entered the warmth of his body, Will had been a deep breath away from begging. He had been wound so tight, it was more painful not to fuck. Hannibal had taken his time, easing the pain with small kisses and whispers of praise. Will had felt stretched to the seams, bursting with the hard flesh sliding in and out of his body as their labored breaths mingled in the scant space between their bodies. 

Their eye contact only broke at the moment of orgasm when Will’s own vision had gone white with pleasure. He had come so hard, he felt as if he had blacked out. The man above him had collapsed in and exhausted heap, easing from the profiler’s body to lay beside him in a satisfied, exhausted pile. They had come down from their shared pleasure for several minutes before Hannibal had stood and helped him gather his things. Will left without question, stunned by what had occurred.

The next incident was a few weeks later, occurring much the same way as the first. For four months, they pushed their encounters until they could no longer resist, falling upon one another like starved beasts. As soon as it was polite to do so, Hannibal had ushered him out the door with a small kiss to the lips, not a word or sentiment spoken between them. Emotions, it seemed, were reserved for the bed alone. _He_ _’s fine with them when he’s inside me. No other time._

This was the very first time Will had ever fallen asleep after they fucked. The case they’d been working on had come to a dead end. Hannibal had tried pushing him in another direction, ensuring him with a quiet firmness that he was headed in the wrong direction. The argument had ensued and escalated into a full shouting match, but it didn’t take long for Will to find himself pressed to the back of the couch in Hannibal’s office, the doctor kissing him as if they were about to die. The trip to Hannibal’s house had taken no time at all, and they had taken their frustration and anger out in a much more rewarding manner. Will would be remembering for weeks the feeling of Hannibal driving into him hard from behind, the explosion of his climax making him see stars as he babbled nonsense to the man fucking him. Their collapse had happened not long after, neither man able to move. 

Instead of being shoved out the door, Hannibal had instead fallen asleep, Will following not long after. Now, here he was, awake and panicked. _What do I do? Should I just leave and lock the doorknob?_ Will weighed his options, watching Hannibal sleep as he did so. The rhythmic breaths the doctor took lulled him back into relaxation, and he had to fight to keep his senses about him. _I can_ _’t imagine anyone breaking in this late. It will be fine. He won’t even notice I overstayed my welcome._ Will nodded to himself and carefully rolled to the other side of the bed, placing his feet on the floor, testing the boards for any creaking. Satisfied they’d silently hold his weight, he stood, looking around the room for his clothes. He spotted his t shirt on Hannibal’s side of the bed, a shoe not to far from it. A single sock stood watch by the door, his pant leg hanging on the floor from the chair his pants had been tossed onto. Hannibal’s slacks tangled with his own jeans, the sight oddly affecting. Will felt his heart squeeze gently at the sight. _What I would give to be wrapped up in Hannibal_ _’s arms the way our clothes seem to._

Shaking his head, he began to gather up his things. When the occasional board shifted, he halted in his search, waiting to ensure the doctor still slumbered. He managed to find most of his clothing and started to pull them on, but his other shoe was lost somewhere amidst the darkness of the room. Frowning, Will bent down, searching beneath the bed. Nothing. Staring around in dismay, he shook his head. _I can_ _’t leave with only one shoe. I’m far from Cinderella._ As he made his way to the other side of the bed, a voice broke through the silence, startling him so hard, it made him jump.

“Come back to bed, please. I have an early start, and I can’t sleep with you wandering around like an elephant.” The words were sharp, but the voice that spoke them was tired, resigned. Will froze, unsure of what to say.

“Will.” The profiler swallowed.

“Are you sure?” Hannibal rolled over their eyes meeting in the darkness. Without a word, he pulled the covers up. Will stripped to his former state of undress, crawling beneath the covers with a shiver. Hannibal reached forward and pulled the other man to him, wrapping a possessive arm around his stomach. Will closed his eyes and tried not to move.

“What made you think you needed to leave?” Hannibal asked, his voice soft as smoke. The hand around his waist loosened, trailing down the profiler’s side. Will bit back a moan and turned over to meet the doctor’s gaze.

“I’ve never stayed over before,” he replied. “I didn’t think you’d want me to stay now, either.” Hannibal made a quiet sound at the back of his throat.

“I’d hardly kick you from my bed this late in the evening,” he chided. “You’re most welcome to stay whenever you desire.” Wrapping the other man closer, Hannibal placed a small kiss between his eyebrows, one to his nose, and a gentle kiss to Will’s lips. “Shall we sleep? We can discuss our arrangement in the morning.” Will smiled in the darkness.

“Please. I’m exhausted.” Hannibal nodded, tucking Will’s head beneath his chin.

“Very well. Sweet dreams, darling.” At the final word, Will’s heart hurled itself out to the stars.


End file.
